Arthur Machen

gone, by sail
3 months, it's bigger here
trees, precious few
something to do
i heard them squeal
"i'll never peel"

black was the night
that I know
Church Steps and bells
fortunes and tongues
a litte pair
but I'm not there

coldly they led
down endless stairs
"you're car is waiting, Sir
abandon your cares"
i was a block of air
just standing there